


Revolution of Ecstasy

by byerasure



Category: South Park
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Depression, Drug Abuse, F/M, Fingerbang, M/M, Past Domestic Violence, asshole Kenny, band au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:31:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9639029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byerasure/pseuds/byerasure
Summary: "Wait, what do I have to do with this?""I want you to be our new singer-""No way, there's no way I'll do that, nah-ah"~~~Kenny McCormick is not the type to be in a boyband. He hangs out with bad people, he uses drugs and alcohol -he's just a terrible person overall, or so he thinks. However there's one thing that makes up for his mistakes; his voice.





	1. Chapter 1

His thumb gently tapped on the screen as he scrolled down on Twitter. Tweets, photos and notifications from people he followed flooded his feed, yet he found nothing entertaining. Stan Marsh was bored. He sighed, glancing around the lounge to see what the others were doing; next to him was Wendy, comfortable in her boyfriend’s lap, with her phone in her nicely manicured hand. The newest model in a light pink shade, clean and professional, just like its owner. On the other side of the room sat Kyle, scribbling into a notebook, while Cartman stuffed his face with chips a couple of feet away from him. Stan averted his gaze back to the phone and refreshed the app when something caught his attention.

“Aaand, the world’s about to go crazy” 

“It’s out?” questioned Kyle after he had closed his book and put it beside him, onto the middle seat of the white couch.

“Yeah” 

“What’s it say?” he clicked on the link and when the page loaded, he cleared his throat and started reading out the headline of the article.

“"FINGERBANG singer Craig Tucker quits band - co-songwriter and lead vocalist leaves the band in hopes of pursuing his solo career" on the website was an interview with Craig, who spoke about his decisions and plans for the future. Stan chose not to read the rest of the article as they were not quite over the incident. After a few long moments of thoughtful silence, Kyle looked up from studying his hands and said:

“Well, it’s official now. No going back” the guitarist sighed, visibly bothered by the events.

“You have to respect his decision” remarked Wendy sympathetically, her fingers caught in Stan’s black locks.

“Easy to say, your career’s on track” whined Cartman with jealousy clear in his tone. Stan nodded as Kyle joined the conversation.

“Plus we’re pretty famous with a wide fan base, how are we supposed to handle the situation? Now we need to find another singer, but we’ll have to cancel our shows prior to a few months-“

“Yeah, we’ll lose so much profit!” agreed Stan after he’d interrupted the redhead’s speech.

"It's fine guys, you'll figure something out! First, you should give an interview too, and explain what's happening to your fans,” started Wendy in an attempt to give advice to the upset members of Fingerbang. All eyes landed on her, including Stan’s. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the sight of his girlfriend; she was so perfect, everything he could wish for. In a situation like this, he was glad to have someone like her by his side. “- then start holding auditions for a new singer, -but why am I the one telling you this? Where's Chef when you need him?" the three men shrugged, not knowing where their not-so-trusty manager was. Wendy rolled her eyes, ready to lecture them about the importance of a good producer, so Kyle took his phone out of his pocket to call Chef, not because he wanted to hear from the older man, but mainly to shut her up, or at least avoid having to listen to her. They all liked Wendy, but she could be a pain in the ass. 

"Hey Chef, where are you? What do you mean ‘why do I ask’?! You’re our manager, we need you!” he remained silent for a few moments to let the person on the other end speak while he stared into the distance with an uninterested expression on his face. “Where? …a bar? Okay, fine, when? But that’s hours away, what are we supposed to do until 8? Oh, alright, thanks Chef” Kyle ended the call before looking up and explaining their conversation, in which they’d agreed to have one of them meet up with the man at a bar neither of the boys had ever been to. “He said he has a date at that place and is too lazy to go the studio before it” they all laughed at Chef’ impossibility, except for Kyle who just shook his head defeatedly. 

"You go" stated the Stan and Cartman in unison to Kyle's distaste once they collected themselves. The redhead raised an eyebrow as if he were asking why without words.

"Because you're the most mature out of the three of us, and Chef likes you best" tried Stan to convince his best friend to go instead of him, because that way he could have a nice, peaceful night to spend with his girlfriend without needing to worry about the future of their band, something he hadn’t had the chance to do in the past months. 

"That's not true! I think you're his favorite, Stan" 

"Hey! I thought I was his favorite!" shouted Cartman, already getting irritated.

"Really? Whose favorite would you ever be? Nobody likes you!" snickered sarcastically Kyle. 

"Ay, watch your mouth you fucking J-"

"Guys!" yelled Wendy to stop them from fighting. “Now isn’t the time. What’re you gonna do until eight?”

“He told me he’d try to get us an interview as soon as he can, and that we should do some work after” 

"Geez, he's the worst manager we've ever had" laughed Stan, not bothered by the uselessness of their producer too much.

~~~

The song he’d been playing for the past four minutes finally ended, allowing Kenny to take a quick break while some of the drunk assholes applauded him drearily. He leaned to the side and grabbed an almost empty bottle of beer. It was a couple minutes before eight, which meant he had just enough time for one more song until he’d be free to go. Fantastic, he thought as he took desperate gulps of the leftover liquid. If he wanted to be honest, this job wasn’t too bad – yeah, he did work seven days a week to earn the amount money that would keep him alive for another short while, but at least he only had to stay here for three hours a day, and he also got free alcohol, so it was somewhat bearable.  
When he finished his drink, Kenny threw the glass on the floor and looked around the place as he got comfortable on the wooden chair in the middle of the small stage. Although the bar was poorly lit, he could see three men who were loudly arguing with each other at a table, their pints knocked over and liquid flowing down onto the dirty ground. A few feet away from them, next to the front door stood a group of older guys, seemingly pissed. Some of them were shoving one another, meanwhile two more sober dudes were trying to calm them down, not too keen on getting into a fight on a Tuesday night. Kenny doubted any of them were paying attention to his singing, but he didn’t really give a shit – he did what he was told to, and it wasn’t his fault if he had no fucking audience. He still got paid.  
Finally, it’s time for his favorite song. He started playing, his fingers moved quickly to the rhythm of the melody, the soft vibrations coming from the depths of his guitar immediately relaxing him. Kenny licked his lips, then leaned to the microphone and closed his eyes. His raspy voice filled the entire room, hypnotizing everyone. Sleepiness overcame those who were fighting just a minute ago, and tranquilized them until they were all and completely silent. Kenny lost his confidence.

They were never this quiet. 

They usually just sat and yelled at each other, there was no single time that they listened to Kenny in utter silence. Due to the sudden feeling of anxiety, he opened his eyes to check what was going on. The first thing he saw was a redhead man standing across the room, staring right at him. Kenny's heart sped up from the unexpected attention he’d received from the stranger, and for a second, he didn’t know what to do, apart from getting lost in his eyes. He then realized the song had to continue and blinked, breaking the moment in the process. What the fuck. This was weird. Kenny glanced up again, scanning the room for any signs of the curly haired man, and although he would’ve never admitted it to himself, the presence of the guy piqued his interests. He looked different than the folks in this place; his style of clothing made him seem clean and collected, the opposite of Kenny, and even though his expression told he had no idea what he was doing here, he appeared to be confident. Maybe he was on a date or something, not that Kenny cared too much. 

The song came to its end, so after saying his goodbyes, Kenny stood up and packed his guitar away. Ready to fucking leave already, he made his way past the dude sitting at the bar, not acknowledging how he was staring right at him, as it kind of annoyed Kenny, to be honest. Why was he looking at him like that? And why the hell was he dressed up like that? What the shit was he even doing here in the first place?  
Once he’d reached the door, he pushed it open and stepped outside, only to slam into a bigger, dark skinned man wearing a sparkly black suit. He bit back a snort and mumbled a meaningless apology instead as he scurried away, not wanting to get into an argument. He lit a cigarette, then took a deep drag. It was still quite early, and Kenny didn’t know what he’d do once he got home. He supposed he could drink a beer or two and jack off or something before going to bed, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Just like every other day.


	2. Chapter 2

~~~

The comforting state of Kenny McCormick’s slumber was disturbed by the obnoxious sound of his shitty old phone. Still being half asleep, he reached out and felt around the uncomfortable mattress with closed eyes, attempting to find the device just by relying on his hearing.

“What,” he mumbled carelessly once he’d finally picked up the call.

“Is this Kenneth McCormick?” asked a deep voice, to which the blond’s only response was humming. “I’m calling from South Park Records…” at this point Kenny let out a huge yawn while he dozed off, completely ignoring the man on the other end of the line. He might’ve actually fallen asleep again, because instead of processing what the other guy was saying, his imagination wandered to the weirdest parts of his mind as he envisioned majestic green dragons flying around with ninjas sword fighting in the air. Only after a loud cough was he able to snap back to reality and wake from his dream. 

“Huh?” left the soft murmur his lips. He turned to his left side and pulled the blanket up to his ear.

“Would it be possible to meet?” any other time Kenny would’ve questioned the man and his intentions, but he was too damn tired to give a shit about him, so he grumbled something about not going anywhere. “But-“ started the caller, all his confidence suddenly lost. 

“For fuck’s sake!” exclaimed the blond as he abruptly opened his eyes and shot deadly glares at the dirty-white wall, which the man, although couldn’t see, still sensed by Kenny’s angry tone that made him realize his patience was coming to its end. “Listen up here buddy, you got my number somehow. If you really want to meet me, I’m sure you can find my address too. Now leave me the fuck alone!” he threw the phone across the room, then tried to get comfortable again and sleep for a few more hours.

~~~

Motherfucking piece of shit – was this the day people decided to conspire against him?! It was the second time that he was rudely awaken today, why the fuck won’t they let him sleep! Apparently, some asshole really wanted to enter his flat, at least judging by the never stopping knocking on the door, which was no obstacle to any burglar, due to the lack of proper locks Kenny felt unnecessary to have, as the most his so called “home” could offer was an old, broken television he still hadn’t thrown out.  
Holy shit, he really did not feel like getting out of bed. Maybe he could just wait for them to give up and leave…but then again, he’d also enjoy yelling right into their face and scaring the crap out of them just as much as going back to sleep. After contemplating his choices, Kenny decided to _fuck it_ and climbed out of the bed, only to dizzily stumble backwards a moment later.

“Whoa” he whispered, shaking his head. He made his way to the entrance, mentally hyping himself up to yell at whatever idiot was standing on the other side, and unlocked the door before ripping it open. The timing would’ve been perfect, and Kenny was ready, oh so ready to finally let out days’ worth of tension on a random guy, however there was a small change in his plans when he saw the person in front of him. It was the man from yesterday, with the memorable green eyes and fiery hair, seemingly taken aback from Kenny’s sudden force despite only being awake for a couple of minutes. They both shared a moment of confusion, not knowing what either of them should do or say, until the taller one finally composed himself and cleared his throat.

“C’mon, move your ass, I don’t have all day” he growled at the other man, who blinked a couple times before obediently following him into the worn out flat.

“Is this how you live?” asked the guest, eyes scanning the room that acted as a kitchen, living room and Kenny’s bedroom at the same time. Unwashed dishes on the dirty counter, an unmade bed, stained white walls and used clothes shattered across the grungy floor – not the best sight to greet a guest with, yet Kenny didn’t give a single fuck about it. It was his apartment, which meant it was his to decide how well he kept it, and he most certainly did not need some random twat’s disapproval.

“You got a problem with it? Cause you can fucking leave!” remarked the salty blonde as he nodded towards the exit. 

“No, sorry, I shouldn’t have…” redhead’s voice trailed off guiltily, although he did not stay remorseful for too long, because a second later he looked up again, staring curiously into Kenny’s soul, which, of course, annoyed the shit out of him so much, that he felt the need to exclaim angrily at the poor guy.

“What?!” 

“Kyle Broflovski, nice to meet you” he stuck out his right hand, but Kenny just rolled his eyes and walked over to his bed to plop down and light the first cigarette of the day, which would most likely be followed by many more. 

“Why are you here? You sure you’re not lost?” asked the blond between two long drags and a blow of off-white smoke. “You don’t look like you belong here, I’m surprised no one tried to rob you yet, pretty boy” that sarcastic smirk made Kyle’s left eyebrow tremble slightly, a sign of the redhead’s patience slowly coming to its end. Instead of letting the rising anger take over him, he exhaled quietly, silently reminding himself of the reason he’d come here for. 

“Do…do you know who I am?” 

“Kyle Broflovski. You just said it” he snorted sarcastically, which made Kyle even more nervous.

“No, I mean, yeah, but, uh…” ah, one of the few joys in Kenny’s life; messing with people and making them feel as bad as he did. It was a pleasure, really. “Have you ever heard of Fingerbang?”

“Uh…some gay ass band, right?”

“Eh, sure, whatever you wanna call it, it doesn’t matter, but the thing is, the singer quit, so we need a new one”

“Hold on – don’t tell me…you’re joking, aren’t you?” Kenny sat up with wide eyes, balancing the half-burned cigarette between his fingers. When Kyle shrugged, he furrowed his brows. “What kinda name is Fingerbang anyway? Who are you trying to finger, and why? Who thought this was a good idea?!”

“I told Cartman it’d sound ridiculous…” mumbled Kyle while he played with the expensive-looking watch on his wrist.

“Wait, what do I have to do with this?” asked Kenny suspiciously, fearing the worst that had come to his mind.

“I want you to be our new singer-“

“No!” exclaimed the older man, not letting Kyle finish entirely. “No way, there’s no way I’ll do that, nah-ah” 

“What?! Why? You don’t even know us!” 

“I know that you’re called ‘Fingerbang’ and that you’re in it, that’s perfectly enough of a reason for me to conclude that you and your stupid band suck and I don’t wanna be associated with it” 

“Please just give us a chance!” Kenny left him without a response, and just leaned back on his bed instead, letting the ashes fall on the covers as he mindlessly gazed at the ceiling. “What do you want?” 

“Hmm?”

“Money? I can pay as much as you want!”

“What? No!”

“Then what do you want? Fame? Respect? A better house?” what did Kenny want? He wasn’t sure. There were many things he wished to have, yet there was no way this redhead asshole could give those to him, so he opted to avoid getting into detail, and just said “nothing” instead. “Please!"

“You’re really desperate, huh?”

“At least meet the others before you reject the idea” 

“…fine” mumbled the blond with not much enthusiasm after long moments of thought. Upon hearing that one word, Kyle’s face lit up cheerfully.

“Really?” he yelled excitedly. Kenny sighed as he ran a hand through his greasy hair, already regretting agreeing to the annoying guy in front of him.

“But you owe me for this”

“Yeah, for sure! Can we go now?”

“Go where?” 

“To the studio”

“Why?”

“So the others can listen to you too” he lifted one brow with a questioning expression painted on his face.

“They don’t even know about this? Wow, what a close relationship you have, sure will be a pleasure to work with you” Kyle ignored his sarcastic comeback, and kept staring at him curiously, awaiting for an answer. “Like, now? Ugh, you’re such a burden. Alright, but we’re stopping at KFC. And you’re paying” he grabbed his guitar, then stormed out of the flat, yelling after Kyle to hurry the fuck up, because _he had no intentions to stay with the boy any longer then necessary._

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first longer story I'm gonna be posting while it's still in progress and being written, so I can't guarantee that I'll be able to finish it or post new chapters regularly, but if people like it and want me to continue, I'll try to update as much as I can.  
> I know this first chapter might be boring or not make sense, but I promise I have ideas of where this fic is going, even if it's trash ^^'  
> Thanks for reading, please leave kudos or comments so I know I have a reason to keep writing :D
> 
> ~Yami


End file.
